Gone Hunting
by flaming-nightshade
Summary: PART6!!! A man with a gun, a lounge singer with a past and one hell of a hangover the following morning
1. Body, mind and....

**Disclaimer: **Much as I wish otherwise, I don't own any of the characters from Cowboy Bebop. I also don't own the lyrics at the beginning. 

**A/N:** I was going to write a completely different angsty fic set after Spikes death but then the idea for this popped up. Spike's back on the Bebop with Jet, Ed and Ein. Faye has disappeared to live life elsewhere. This is set in a massage parlour, and although I don't think it qualifies as NC17 it's a close call. You have been warned.

There goes my baby 

_She knows how to rock n roll_

_She drives me crazy_

_She gives me red hot fever and then leaves me in a cool, cool sweat_

_~crazy little thing called love_

Spike blinked as he entered the gloomy room behind the paint peeled door. The sign above had declared it to be 'Masquerade Massage Parlour – Home of forbidden pleasures'. As his eyes adjusted to the light he was a little surprised at just how packed the reception was. Either every other massage parlour on Mars must have closed down, or these girls might actually be quite good. 

Sp8ike lit up as he scanned the somewhat eager patrons before him. No luck. The reason for his visit, one Harold Kinter was not here. No Harold meant no 10,000,000 woolong. Spike inhaled deeply, maintaining his nonchalant exterior. He was just going to have to wait.

"Can I help you sir?"

The cigarette dropped out of Spike's mouth as the female voice broke through his reverie. Startled Spike turned to see a petite form perched behind a counter in the corner of the room. A cigarette was nestled between two glossy red lips, while blue eyes stared out at him suspiciously from half shut, heavily made up eyes.

Spike blinked then smiled lazily while running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm here for a massage."

"300 woolongs half an hour, 500 for an hour"

Spike shrugged and slapped 300 woolongs down on the counter. Something suspiciously like a smirk flittered round the edges of the receptions mouth as she handed Spike a ticket. "Wait until your number is called."

Spike turned and made his way towards an empty space on one the tatty green couches littered around the room. With a sigh he dropped down and stretched out, preparing to make himself comfortable. While he reached for a new cigarette with one hand, he held the ticket in the other one. It said number 35. Just then a door opened and a female wearing a porcelain mask stepped out. Her curveaous body was clad in the smallest Chinese style dress he had ever seen. Black stockings ended at mid thigh level, a good two inches below the dresses hem, and at least another six from where the splits started. As her voice drawled out that it was number 18's turn, Spike suddenly became very aware of just how long it had been since he'd been laid. Too long. Spike shrugged and a smile began to flicker at the edges of his mouth. Maybe it wouldn't be such a long and boring bounty stakeout after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Faye lit a cigarette and leaned back in the chair as she exhaled slowly. She'd been working for four hours and this was her first chance to actually sit back and put her feet up. She glanced at the clock on the wall. She'd relax for forty minutes then get back to work. After all, her next chance for a break wasn't going to be for another six hours after that. Faye frowned as she flicked away the ash from her cigarette and pulled the paper she'd been looking at closer. This bounty had better turn up tonight. Faye really wasn't in the mood to continue working here for another week. 

She sighed and looked at the clock again. Thirty-five minutes left. Faye ground out the remains of her first cigarette and lit up a second one as she rested her feet on the table. After this, she'd grab some food.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike had long since given up any hope of reading a magazine, and was currently enjoying a quiet smoke as he eavesdropped on the various conversations going on around him.

"…had her last week. Apparently she'd just started, but you wouldn't know it. I'm telling you her hands are like…."

"…the ultimate in lookers. Wish I could take that mask off…"

"yeah, dress too."

"…I'm telling you, if only my wife could do that I'd be able to afford that new monoracer."

Spike stared up at the ceiling, looking at the various patterns the smoke from his cigarette made as it trailed upwards. Nearly all the conversations seemed to revolve around a particular girl, who seemed to be something of a favourite amongst the cliental. No mention had been made of Harold Kinter, nor had he entered the parlour. Spike had managed to learn that after a massage, clients left through a different route. If Harold still hadn't shown by the time he was called in, he'd have to continue his stake out outside the exit. Spike glanced at a small clock positioned behind the receptionist. He'd been waiting almost forty-five minutes, shouldn't be much longer, number 34 had just gone in after all.

As he reached for another cigarette, the female announcer appeared in the doorway again.

"Number 35?"

Spike rose to his feet and slouched off after her. He couldn't help but stare at the rounded and pert arse that was wiggling in front of him. He almost stumbled as it stopped abruptly, and he managed to raise his eyes just in time to avoid any embarrassment as the girl turned round to face him.

"If you'd like to remove your clothes and lie down on the table your masseur will be with you shortly."

Spike glanced round the room. A massage table was positioned in the centre, with a table featuring an interesting array of lotions and oils nearby. Soft drapes and quiet music helped to create a relaxed atmosphere. With a grin Spike striped off his clothing and stretched out on the table. He might as well make the most of this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Faye was touching up her lipstick when the door to the room opened and Ayame stepped in. Removing her mask she flopped onto the sofa and reached for a cigarette. She exhaled and glanced at Faye. 

"You're up. Room 3"

Faye grinned as she reached for her own porcelain mask and tied it on. "What is it? Another balding business man?"

Ayame returned Faye's grin with one of her own. "No, you're in luck today. Young and cute, if a little on the skinny side."

Faye laughed as she checked her reflection one last time before adjusting her thigh-high stocking and the hem of her non-existent Chinese style dress. "Mmmm. Sounds like I better make the most of it"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike heard the door to the room open and close softly behind him. From his position, face down on the table, he couldn't see the girl who had entered, but he could hear her breathing. Just then a tendril of perfume drifted over to him. There was something familiar about that smell but he couldn't quite place it. It was nice though, quite rich and exotic. After a slight pause he heard soft footsteps as the girl approached the table. 

Faye had needed a moment to compose herself after entering the room. For one second she had thought the figure on the table was _him_. But that was impossible. _Spike died a year ago_. She admonished herself. But she had to admit the resemblance was amazing. From the fluffy green hair, to that lithe frame, everything seemed so Spike. Then Faye realised. _Spike might be dead, but maybe it's time to work out some tension with someone who could pass for him…._

With a smile Faye slowly sashayed forward, letting her eyes linger on the form in front of her. She made sure that as she walked past the massage table to load up on some oils, her thighs brushed against his dangling hand. Faye felt his fingers jolt as she made contact, an electric thrill running up her spine. She heard a rustling as he moved his head round to face her. She turned round slowly, making sure to emphasise every subtle curve and line of her body. She almost dropped the oil when she saw the clients face. _Even his eyes are the same…_

Faye hastily gathered her composure back together and slowly poured oil into the palm of her hand, letting it trickle down her arm. Putting the bottle back down she gently rubbed the oil over both of her hands before moving back towards the man before her. She placed her hands on his back and started to spread the oil over his body until it glistened under the room's soft lighting.  As Faye let her hands caress the skin before her she felt the tingling sensation from before. A sudden intake of breath from below her informed her that the feeling was mutual. Faye grinned as she let her hands knead the flesh slightly harder, enjoying the feel of the tense muscles loosening as she rubbed the oil in. 

Spike had been quite relaxed to begin with. His hand had been dangling off the table as he waited. Then she'd brushed against it and every muscle in his body had suddenly come alive as a sudden fever seemed to race through him. His fingers closed as he savoured the feel of the cool, silky skin that sent his mind racing. He shifted so he could get a look at the girl. She was standing by the oils, luxuriously pouring into her hand. Her form was encased in yet another tiny Chinese dress, the scarlet satin crinkling round her tiny waist. What looked like an amazing cleavage was only hinted at through a missing section under the collar of the dress. But it was the long legs that caught Spikes attention. Porcelain white, slender and shapely, they were highlighted by the black stockings and killer heels they were dressed in. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw the oil start to work its way down the girl's arm. 

She put the bottle down and seemed to glide towards him, her dark purple hair glinting under the lights as she smoothed the oil over her hands. Spike closed his eyes and gasped as she placed her hands on his back, causing a shudder to run through his body. He felt a stirring sensation from low in his body as the hands continued to move in an electrifying dance on his skin. It felt soo good. Spike felt as though his body was slowly turning into a warm soft mass and melting into the table. Still the hands continued, slowly working their way lower and lower. 

Spike bit his lip as the hands brushed over the base of his spine, causing a tightening sensation elsewhere. The warm feeling was slowly starting to spread up his spine in delicious waves as the tantalising sensation of two hands touching him moved down to his thighs. A slight moan escaped Spike's lips as conflicting thoughts ran through his mind. He knew his first priority was the bounty but this felt _so good_. He was willing to take Jet kicking his arse into next Tuesday as long as he could really enjoy this moment.

Faye let her hands make their way down his back and onto the tight arse in front of her. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the muscular form in front of her. It had been ages since she'd seen an arse as perfect as this. One year in fact. Regretfully Faye moved her hands down to the trim thighs, caressing the tight muscles. A soft moan informed her that her client was obviously enjoying this. Glancing at the clock on the wall Faye saw she had five minutes left. A smile played across her features, she wouldn't do this for anyone but she could pretend that this time, the man below was the one she had loved.

Spike was aware of the warm and tingly feeling oozing out of every pore in his body. He had long since lost all sense of time and place, just enjoying the moment he was experiencing. With a frown he realised the hands had left his skin. Then he heard a gentle rustling of satin as she moved back up. It was then he felt a slight shift as she climbed onto the table and straddled his back. Flipping him over he saw her perched over him, face still hidden by the mask she was wearing. He watched as her hands reached down and started to run lightly over his chest. Her fingers gently teased his nipples as a low groan escaped from him. As her hands trailed down to his stomach the warm feeling grew till he felt like he was going to burst. A sudden spasm passed through his body as his back arched, rising to meet the form above it. Her hands reached for his and guided them onto her thighs when a sudden knock at the door interrupted them.

The girl swung her leg back over him and jumped down to the floor.

"Times up. Thank you for coming."

As Spike watched her leave he dropped his head back down with a groan. If only he'd paid for the full hour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jet stared down at his partner. Spike had a somewhat more blank expression than normal on his face, and the long trail of ash still attached to the smouldering cigarette in his mouth implied he'd been this way for a while. Jet sighed, he was going to hope for the best.

"So Spike, heard ISSP got Kinter…we going to be seeing any of that money?"

Nothing. Jet blinked as puzzlement infused his features. As far as he knew, and he had Ed to rely on, no one else knew that Kinter frequented this parlour. So that meant it had to be Spike that handed him over….right?

"Spike! Snap out of it and tell me what happened!"

Spike blinked and dropped his cigarette. "I should have bought an hour."

He turned and began to walk back to his ship, leaving Jet even more confused. "Bought an hour? Did we get our bounty or not? You better have some money pal or it's bean sprouts tonight."

Spike sighed as he heard Jets grumblings behind him. It was going to be a long night….

**_See ya Space Cowboy,_**


	2. Rotations and reflections

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Cowboy Bebop, that belongs to sunrise inc and other rich people, neither do I own Just Looking which is by the stereophonics. Please don't sue me… I don't even make enough money to buy anime, I have to steal it off my sister or sneak into her uni society. 

**A/N:** Ohhh, and I thought it was a one-time deal (so did Spike!) but no, a plot has come and lodged itself in my brain. Less smut, more story, please read and review people, you've all been soooo nice!

There's things I want 

_There's things I think I want_

_There's things I've had_

_There's things I wanna have_

_                                                ~ Just Looking_

There was a rhythmical whirring sound as the fan on the ceiling slowly rotated round and round. Spike stared at it, aware that his fixation came mainly from his desire not to think about things. Or people. Especially people.

_Whirrr……Whirrr……Whirrr_

Spike lit a cigarette then fell back onto his bed. He shifted slightly, resting one arm behind his head and propping his left leg up on his right knee, letting his foot bounce up and down idly. He was definitely not thinking about people. Or masseurs. Especially masseurs.

Whirrr……Whirrr……Whirrr 

It was quite relaxing, lying on the bed, Spike mused as he took a deep drag of his cigarette. There was something almost hypnotic about the fan's rotations, something that let all the tensions flow out of his muscles. Spike felt as though he was slowly sinking into the bed. He took another slow breath in, hearing the slight hissing sound as the paper of the cigarette caught light and turned to ash. Spike closed his eyes and let the smoke drift out his mouth gently, savouring the warmth that was slowly seeping out from his lungs. It was a cosy feeling, like the feel of a lovers arms when slumber gradually became wakefulness. 

Whirrr……Whirrr……Whirrr 

A smile gently creased up Spike's face, as he remembered waking up to the sun on his face and the soft weight of a still sleeping Julia lying across his chest, her silky hair gently rippling as he breathed. Unbidden a different image suddenly appeared in Spike's mind, a memory of him sat by a different bed watching another woman sleep, her dark purple hair splayed out across a pillow, her face curiously soft and serene as her chest softly rose and fell. 

Spike felt his eyes snap open as he stared at the fan again, his heart racing curiously fast. _Faye?_ Why did he suddenly remember that? And her?

Whirrr……Whirrr……Whirrr 

But now he had thought of her, he couldn't seem to get her image out of his mind. The time when Faye had first come on board the Bebop and had sneaked off to use the shower without permission… he'd followed her in and seen her, her outline blurred by a shower curtain and steam. He had stood there, mouth open and brain refusing to function until she'd noticed and abruptly sent him on his way. It was still so vivid, just like the memory of _those_ hands massaging away his tensions. Those beautiful, glorious, delicate hands. Soft and porcelain white, and so gentle…

Spike shook his head with a growl and angrily stubbed out his cigarette. This was getting ridiculous! He wasn't some hormone driven teenager for chrissakes! Spike slung his feet off the bed and stood up. Jet would have cooked something by now. Maybe food would take his mind off Faye…THINGS!!! He meant things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike lifted the chopsticks to his mouth and bit into another mouthful of bean sprouts. As he chewed mechanically and swallowed he reflected that the Bebop was much more peaceful without opinionated tomboys, much more tranquil and quiet. Quiet…

Spike paused and quickly glanced up at his fellow crew members, all of whom were staring at him speechless. In Ed's case the emotion seemed to be fear for she let out a wail and ran out of the room, followed by Ein who let out a whine of his own. Jet let out a sigh and sat down opposite Spike, arms folded.

"Okay Spike, you've even managed to freak out the freaky kid. What's up?"

Spike blinked and hastily swallowed, before shrugging. "Nothing. Just thinking."

Jet snorted and leaned back his arms resting on the back of the sofa. "Spike, you thinking is never a good thing. You tend to think yourself into trouble."

Spike frowned and carefully placed the now empty plate on the table in front of him. Jet seemed to sense his companion's reluctance to share as his tone softened. " Come on, what's brought on all this introspection? Were the masseurs teaching Buddhist meditation techniques? You said you wanted another hour, we let you have another hour. On three separate occasions!"

"No good," Spike mumbled as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "She'd left by then."

"She?" Jet, sensing the root of the problem was almost discovered, seized on the new information.

Spike sat back with a sigh. "Whatever happened to Faye?"

"huh?" Temporarily thrown by the sudden change of topic Jet leaned forward.

"Faye, you know, dressed like a cheap saloon singer, had a major attitude and a problem with money. Couldn't you find her?"

Jet looked away for a moment. "We found her. We decided to go our separate ways. End of story."

Spike frowned. "Oh."

Jet raised an eyebrow. "Does this newfound interest in life extend to helping get some money? Cos if you want to eat for the next few months, you'd better help with the new bounty Ed found."

Spike grinned. "As long as you're promising meat, I'm in."

Jet stood up and beckoned for Spike to follow him. "I'll fill you in on the way."

"Way? Way to where? Where we going?"

"A jazz club."

_This could be just what I need_ Spike thought as he followed Jet to the hangar. _Something to get my mind off things…and people…and definitely masseurs._

**_Ever heard of tempting fate?_******


	3. The Jazz Singer

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Cowboy bebop so don't sue. I also don't own "You Gotta Do" which comes from the excellent Song of Singapore. If you can, try and get a copy cos the songs Rose sings are really perfect as character songs for Faye, and yes I will be using the sad "I can't remember" later on. I also don't own the title, which is a shameless rip-off of the black and white film of the same name. It just kinda fitted.

**Authors note: **And the plot gets thicker, well actually not yet. Thanks for all the reviews, you've inspired me so much I've finished this part a whole week early. Yay me! Hints of the past, and if you read between the lines, hints at where this is going start to surface in this chapter.

Spike glanced over at Jet who was currently busy with the Hammerheads computer as he entered the co-ordinates for their destination.

"So where we going?"

Jet leaned back with a smile as the ships autopilot kicked in and lit a cigarette. "I told you," he answered, enjoying Spike's curiosity. "We're going to a Jazz club to try and get some leads on a bounty."

Spike let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Care to be a little more specific?"

Jet let out a chuckle and passed Spike a cigarette. "Ever heard of Romeo's?"

Spike raised an eyebrow as he sparked up and shook his head. "Nope." He let a mouthful of smoke. "Why? Should I?"

"About thirty years ago, or so the story goes, the place was little more than a smoky gin dive where bounties gathered as a refuge. Now it's a thriving Jazz club where bounties and their hunters can enjoy a quiet drink or so. Only rule is no hunting or hits are allowed to happen inside. It's a strict one. Their security team is one your red dragons would be proud of."

Spike grinned. "And the cops don't mind that all these wanted felons are hanging out and getting drunk under their noses."

Jet shook his head. "When a club's as successful as Romeo's, the cops find it pays to look the other way. Plus they serve the finest cocktails that you'll find anywhere in the galaxy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike blinked as he stepped into smoky club. There was a large bar running down one side of the long room, which seemed quite popular. Secluded booths and small tables were scattered about the rest of the space, all facing a stage area where a group of musicians were currently tuning up. Jet scanned the area, then nodded towards the bar. "Sit down and get a drink, I'll come and find you."

Spike looked at Jet in surprise. "You don't want me to help?"

Jet shook his head and made his way down the short flight of steps. "Just have a few drinks and relax. I'll only need you later if things don't go to plan."

Spike stared at Jet's retreating back in puzzlement. There was definitely something his so-called comrade wasn't telling him. It wasn't like Jet to be so vague, but still a drink did sound good. Shrugging off his doubts Spike meandered his way over to the bar and slunk into a barstool. Almost immediately a barman appeared in front of him and placed a long glass of some noxious coloured liquid down on the bar along with an ashtray.

"What's this?" Spike asked as he squinted at the glass.

"It's called '_Gypsy's Kiss_'. They're free until the show starts." The barman then wandered down to another patron who was currently waving an empty glass in the air.

Spike stared at the drink in front of him. It smelled like it was rum based, but its light colour made him suspect there was vodka in it as well. Spike shrugged and raised the glass to his lips. No point turning down free alcohol. He took a sip and coughed in surprise. This was good shit. Just then the lights dimmed and a single spotlight lit up the stage. Spike lit a cigarette and turned back to his drink, seemed like the show was going to start. Shame, he wouldn't have minded getting in a few more of these drinks.

The band let out a loud chord and Spike almost choked as he heard the clear voice which sang out.

_Gather round you're gonna hear,_

_Some facts of life I'll make 'em clear._

_I feel the spirit from within,_

_I'll show you losers how to win…_

Slowly a figure, which had been standing in darkness, slunk forwards into the light. First a foot, bound by the thin black straps of a pair of leather stilettos appeared. It was rapidly followed by a slender ankle and the most amazingly perfect leg ever to grace a jazz stage. Spike felt his jaw drop as the rest of the singer made its way into the small pool of light. The epitome of a male's ideal female gently glided into a seductive pose and gestured with a graceful arm movement to the band.

_Hit it losers._

The dress was long and black, made of a silky fabric which clung to every curve of her body and glistened in the light. A long slit cut to the thigh fell open as the hips above swayed and dipped, revealing the porcelain skin underneath. Tiny straps, barely thicker than the delicate fingers which were wrapped round a microphone, fell from her shoulders, skimming across the skin until they joined a neckline which plunged in a manner to make the most of obvious assets. Snakes of black ribbon crossed across the ample cleavage in a way that made every man long to reach out and snap them. Dark purple hair appeared almost ebony under the lights and spilled into emerald eyes lined with black kohl so they stood out dramatically against their pale backdrop. The glossy dark red lips underneath promised unsaid longings and opened as the owner sang. There was no doubt about it. It was Faye.

The drummer gave a little flourish before starting to mark the beat and the band immediately launched into a swing based number. The one small part of Spike's brain that was still able to function was vaguely aware of his fingers tapping the bar in time as he watched Faye move to the beat, shimmering under the lights as her body swayed with the music.

_You gotta do just what you gotta do yeah,_

_You gotta do whatever gets you through that's true,_

_If the chips are down, _

_Don't be a fool,_

_Take a chance, _

_Break a rule,_

_Do the things you gotta do_

Faye moved her fingers down the microphone stand in a suggestive embrace before unclipping it and moving back to piano. Slowly she raised one arm above her head as she slid her back down the piano, letting the skirt of her dress reveal almost all of her legs all the time swaying her hips to the infectious beat.

_You gotta say what you gotta say,_

_You gotta preach just like it's judgement day,_

_And if life hands you a big surprise,_

_You gotta make it up,_

_You gotta improvise,_

_Say what you gotta say,_

Spike dropped his cigarette as the pain of it burning down to his fingers made him look away from the stage. The throbbing sensation was enough to snap him out of his initial shock at seeing Faye. Singing in a Jazz club! Spike shook his head as he tried to rid himself of his surprise.  He still couldn't get over how good she was. True, she'd had a pleasant enough voice the times he'd heard her on the ship. Despite him telling her otherwise, Spike had quite liked hearing Faye humming as she wandered round or singing quietly in the shower. But this was completely different; her voice had a seductive rich tone to it as it slid about the notes. If Faye has sung like that in the shower, Spike reflected as he downed the rest of his drink in one swallow, he'd probably have tried to break the door down. 

Faye slunk her way into the audience, directing her song at various men who could hardly believe their luck as she brushed against them. Pausing at a table she reached out and teasingly caressed the face of the dumbstruck man there with the tip of a finger. Spike's eyes were jealously riveted on the gentle motion and he found himself wishing that it was him on the receiving end instead. Faye, obviously enjoying the power she had over a captive audience continued to move among them, playing with the odd tie here, flitting against a table there as she lost herself in the song.

_You gotta woo who you gotta woo,_

_Even if you woo more than a few you do,_

_Now if one guy's rich,_

_One guy's cute,_

_Keep the dreamboat, and the loot_

_Woo woo woo, who you gotta woo_

Faye turned and headed back onto the stage as the band broke out into an instrumental solo. Finally able to gain some control of his body back, once Faye had paused in her sirens song,  Spike couldn't help but wonder if this was the little thing he'd sensed Jet wasn't telling him. Jet had to have known about this! And he didn't even warn him! Spike snorted and waved the barman over to get a refill. Knocking it back in one he gestured for the barman to leave the bottle as he watched Faye and the trumpet player enter into a spontaneous duet. Spike felt a peculiar feeling in his stomach as he saw how Faye and the trumpet player looked at each other, their two voices rising and falling in a musical dance, twining about each other like lovers, quicker and higher until Faye hit and sustained a long note. Quickly the song resumed, Faye's swaying hips marking time.

_Okay sinners…_

_King David loved that Sheba_

_There's no one he loved more_

_She said 'my dear, my husbands here,_

_ Let's send him off to war'_

_Salome, was no fakir,_

_She did what her momma said,_

_When she shook her moneymaker_

_The Baptist lost his head_

Completely lost in the music Faye moved her body as the music behind her swelled to a climax. Framed in the brilliant light from above, face uplifted and eyes closed in rapture, Faye held every man watching spellbound.

_You gotta do what you gotta do, yeah yeah yeah,_

_You gotta do whatever gets you through, that's true,_

_True or false_

_Day or night,_

_There are times when wrong is right_

_Do what you gotta do_

_You gotta do just what you gotta do_

_You gotta do just what you gotta do_

The audience broke into rapturous applause as the band and Faye came to a triumphant end, hollering and stamping their wild approval. Spike felt a peculiar feeling in the bottom of his stomach as he watched her, thankfully hidden in the shadows by the bar. The long hard longing sensation he felt meant Spike had a hard time swallowing the last of his drink. Taking in a deep breath Spike stared hard as the smooth black surface of the bar in front of him. His eyes seemed to bore holes into the laminated wood as he forced the feelings to subside. Eventually he was able to breath in a slightly calmer manner, only to almost fall off his seat in shock when a hand clapped him on the back.

"So Spike, looks like I'm gonna need your help after all."

Spike glared at Jet who sat down next to him, refusing to make eye contact and sipping at a dram of whisky. Spike let out a long sigh and lit a cigarette, allowing himself a long drag before he replied. "Things not go to plan then?"

Jet shook his head, letting out a sigh. "No-one knew a damn thing. Or if they did they're not talking. One name did keep cropping up though."

Spike followed his partner's gaze and felt his insides flip. _Faye._ She was slouched against the piano sipping a drink as a saxophonist played a blues tune. Even though she was no longer snaking her way across the stage, Spike still felt a wrench inside him when he looked at her. Seemingly unaware of Spike's inner turmoil, Jet finished his drink and got to his feet. "Lets go and see if we can call in a favour."

Spike watched Jet as he slowly began to make his way across the floor. Spike felt like his control was at war with the sea of emotions raging through him. Unable to take his eyes off Faye, and unable to fully understand why, Spike let out a long sigh.

"She has that effect on all the guys. Voice of an angel, body of a sinner and seems to no interest in men what-so-ever."

Spike glanced at the barman who had spoken. He was looking at Spike while polishing a glass. A mixture of pity and envy played across his face before he too looked longingly as the temptress on stage. Spike rose from his seat and tipped his head towards him then made his way towards the stage quickly catching up with Jet. 

Jet wound his way to the side of the stage, his imposing stature a definite advantage in getting through the crowd. Spike wandered in his wake, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. _What are you nervous for? _He mentally admonished himself. _This is Faye for chrissakes! It's not like it's some woman you've seen across a crowded bar…_

"Faye!" Faye turned round to face the person that had called her name. Up close her skin glistened softly under the lights, and the smell of her perfume, rich and exotic drifted about the stage. Jet grinned up at her. "Nice show tonight."

Faye's eyes narrowed as she stepped off the stage, and stepped up to meet her former comrade. "I would say it's nice to see you, but I'd be lying. What do you want Jet?"

Jet sighed dramatically and spread his arms open, his theatrics obviously not impressing her as she folded her arms and jutted out her hip. "Faye. That's no way to great your old comrades."

Confusion coursed over Faye's features, causing her snappy retort to die on her lips as she noticed the plural. "Comrades? But…"

Spike slouched out from behind Jet sensing this was his cue, a crooked smile on his face as he stood before her. "Hey. Long time no see."

Faye let out a gasp as the colour ran from her face and her eyes widened in shock. Slowly her arms dropped to her sides as her brain frantically tried to take in what she was seeing. Faye felt a lump in her throat and tears burn the backs of her eyes as she stood frozen to the spot, unable to do anything other than stare at the dead man smiling in front of her.

**_Hit it losers…_**


	4. Speaking without talking

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own Bebop. I don't own get it faster either which belongs to jimmy eats world.

**A/N: **ARRRRGGGGHHHH! Crippling writers block almost brought me to my knees, and I had to get this omega read before I was happy. Shift in tone in this chapter as the plot kicks in. Dammit, I thought this was going to be relatively light as well. Oh well, it's not all doom and gloom from here on in. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, you help keep the worst of the writers block away.

_I don't care what you do,_

_I'm getting out,_

_No nothing ever shames me._

_Don't want a thing from you,_

_I'm going out,_

_I don't care if you're angry._

_I should have thought things through,_

_I'm holding out,_

_But not getting an answer._

_I want to do right by you,_

_But I'm finding out,_

_That cheating gets it faster._

_                                ~ Get it faster_

As Faye stared at the man before her all the long repressed emotions of a year ago came rushing back. Feelings, thoughts and memories flooded her mind in a paralysing collide scope. The moment stretched out until Spike shifted nervously and gave his patented disarming smile. It didn't work. The contact between them broken, Faye turned back to Jet.

"I know you didn't come here for a touching reunion so I'll ask again. What do you want Jet?"

Jet sighed as he stared at the unflinching woman in front of him. "Aren't you even going to say hello?"

Faye's eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. "Don't make me ask you a third time."

Spike stared in confusion as some unspoken communication passed between the man and woman. He sensed there was something that he was missing, some vital event that he didn't know about, that was filling the silence in an oppressive manner. His thoughts moved back to the conversation that he and Jet had on the Bebop. In hindsight Jet had seemed a little reluctant to talk about their erstwhile comrade. 

Spike's eyes flickered between the two figures before him, engaged in an unspoken form of combat. _What was it that he didn't know? What could have happened during the time he was lying unconscious as a John Doe in a hospital bed? _Spike felt a million questions rise in his mind, demanding answers he already knew would not be forthcoming. A slow uncurling of unease spread through his stomach as the tension between the two former friends grew to breaking point.

 Suddenly Faye turned sharply and began to walk away. 

"Faye wait!" Jet called out sharply to the retreating figure. The tension visibly drained out of his body as he said gently.  " We need your help."

Faye stopped walking and glanced at the two men behind her. Her emerald eyes flashed with some emotion which disappeared too quickly to be identified. With a sigh she gestured forward with her head.

"This way. We'll go somewhere a bit more private."

Spike and Jet exchanged a look which served little purpose other than to reassure the other that they had one ally in whatever war might follow. They then followed Faye as she walked back towards the stage and through a doorway previously concealed by shadows and a heavy burgundy curtain. Spike tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in his stomach that had returned with a vengeance as he followed the solid figure of Jet. He was beginning to think this was a bad idea as he remembered the showdown of a few moments ago. A little bell was ringing in the back of Spike's mind, and he suspected he was about to learn things he really _didn't _want to know._ Ignorance is bliss and all that, _Spike thought.

Faye let out the breath she'd been unaware of holding. As she turned away from the unwelcome reminders of what she was hiding from, Faye glanced down to see her hands were shaking. Appalled at the sight of her own weakness she walked quicker down the dim corridor, anxious to get to the sanctuary of her dressing room and the pack of cigarettes that were starting to seem _really_ appealing right now.  Faye led the way past numerous wooden doors, stained almost black after decades of cigarette smoke and many layers of varnish. Faye walked down on autopilot, refusing to let her thoughts take her to the black place of a year ago. All she wanted at that precise moment, other than for Jet and _him _to disappear back where they came from, was the sweet soothing burn of smoke in her lungs. She stopped at a door right at the end and entered, hoping desperately the two men behind her hadn't noticed the rattle as her hand shook on the door handle.

Faye stepped inside and stood by the door, waiting impatiently until both the men had entered. She swept the door shut, almost clipping Spike. As he jumped in surprise their eyes for a moment, and Faye saw the confusion he had over her treatment of them. It was then she realised that he didn't know about what had happened. Jet had kept that much of his promise at least. She dropped her eyes quickly, not wanting anyone to see the inner turmoil she was feeling, and brushed past the two men as they stood awkwardly in the centre of the room. In one fluid movement she had perched on the top of her vanity table, and was able to survey her visitors, trembling hands carefully concealed under her legs.

"So talk." Faye reached into a nearby sequinned black purse and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. As Jet and Spike exchanged apprehensive glances she sparked up and took a deep drag down. "Well?"

The silent communication between them over, it was decided that Jet was spokesperson. He cleared his throat then relaxed into an affable smile as he leaned back against the wall opposite Faye. "We need some help in finding a bounty. Everyone we've spoken to has recommended you as the person to talk to."

Faye leaned back against the mirror behind her and stared warily at Jet. She knew full well that Ed was back on board the Bebop and as such, Jet had access to practically any information about anybody that he wanted. _Except me_ she hastily reminded herself before any feelings of panic surface. She raised an eyebrow and adopted an air of faint amusement. 

" And how exactly is talking to the jazz singer going to help you find this person?"

Spike snorted as he dropped onto the chaise lounge next to Jet. He might not have a clue about what was going on before, but this he did not. This was Faye at her most obstructive, difficult, shrew-like and well… Faye. He caught her startled look at him and leaned back on the chaise lounge, his left hand searching out the packet of cigarettes he had stashed there earlier. He pulled one out and stared at her as he reached into his trouser pocket for his lighter.  

"Come on Faye, give it up. Everyone knows you're still hunting bounties in your spare time."

Faye stared at Spike, wondering if her earlier assumption had been correct. _How does he know I'm still hunting bounties? _She wondered, a slight frown appearing on her forehead. _My last bounty was weeks ago on Mars… _Faye felt the blood drain from her face as she stared at Spike and remembered. She felt like someone had just punched her in her stomach, as the gut-churning revelation hit her. _Oh my god, it really was Spike…_

A cough broke her train of thought and she looked up at Jet. His eyes flickered slightly as he noticed her sudden paleness. Jet folded his arms and stared steadily at Faye, his face unreadable. 

"How is the bounty hunting going Faye?"

Faye flinched and instantly threw up her mental guards, carefully erasing any emotions from her features, as she put on her poker face. Internally though the panic had finally burst through. _Where's he going with this? _She wondered frantically, _He can't know about the bounty, spike can't know. I was masked for chrissakes! No one could ever know._ However the gleam in Jet's eye made her assertions less than certain. Making sure her voice was calm and neutral she slowly replied. 

"I can pay the bills."

"Heard you did well recently. Captured a bounty on Mars worth 10,000,000 woolongs."

 Faye saw the slight smirk that played across Jets features. _He knows…_ a movement in the corner of her eye suddenly reminded her of the rooms other occupant. She felt a tremor of fear as she wondered how much he knew about that day.

In a movement almost too quick to see, Jet noticed Faye's eyes flick to Spike and back. A small smile crossed his face as he saw a glimmer of panic in Faye's expression. His suspicions were confirmed by the one little movement.  

Faye turned her attention to the cigarette in front of her, avoiding any eye contact while she blew out a long stream of smoke. She needed to buy herself some time. She needed to think about this. More importantly she needed to know if this was going to be the first in the possible revelations Jet could make of Faye. Exuding an air of false calm as she allowed herself to idly watch the serpentine coils of smoke she took a moment to maintain her act before carefully answering.

"What of it?"

Jet chuckled, earning himself a puzzled stare from Spike who suddenly found the conversation going over his head. He was unsure of exactly when this had happened, and he knew was it felt like everyone was playing a game in which he didn't know the rules. Jet was giving away as little as Faye in his expression but the tension in the room was building until it was almost visible in the air around him. Jet inclined his head slightly before meeting her eyes.

"Faye, it's not like you to be so modest. Harold Kinter was a hard man to capture."

Spike felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as he realised what Jet was telling him. _Faye? It was Faye in the massage parlour?_ Shock held him paralysed and he was barely conscious of the conversation continuing around him. The clipped voices became murmurs in the background as Spike found himself remembering _that_ massage. He shook his head slightly, unable to believe what Jet was saying until he looked at Faye and saw the truth of it in her expression. Or lack of to be exact. _All these sleepless nights, all those daydreams caused by Faye?_ He stared at the floor by his feet; his mind and emotions whirling round in confusion. 

Faye saw him. Saw the look of shock and something else that passed across his features. Her voice, which had been steadily rising in volume, died as she watched him and wondered what it was that he was feeling. _Probably horror that he allowed someone like me to touch him, _she thought bitterly, the anger dead inside her. A wave of fatigue washed over her and she raised a hand to brush tiredly at her eyes. A sudden emptiness was clawing at her insides. Carefully she placed her lighter down on the surface beside her before speaking in a flat tone.

"That debt has been paid, Jet. I owe you nothing."

Spike glanced up. Faye was shaking slightly and her face had gone white. She was slumped at the table, the anger gone from her body and looked close to collapsing. He felt a stab of concern at the frail figure she cut, until Jet stepped towards her. Jet had lost the warmth from his expression.

"Dammit Faye, that's not why I'm asking!"

Faye cut him off in a blank monotone, refusing to look at either of them. "I don't care why you're asking, I don't care what you're offering. We made an agreement four months ago…"

"For old times sake, for your old friends." Jet interrupted, trying to defuse his anger.

"Friends?" Faye let out a humourless laugh and raised her head to meet Jet's gaze. "I don't have any friends. Especially not in this room." 

Spike shivered involuntarily as the atmosphere in the room dropped another six degrees. Jet and Faye were staring at each other, a whirlwind of emotions flickering across their faces as they both fought to hide their feelings. Eventually it was Jet who broke the silence, stepping forward silently with a pained look on his face.

"Faye…" he began gently but was cut off by an angry gesture from Faye.

"Don't even think about saying it." She said her voice heavy with emotion as tears burned in her eyes. "Don't say it."

Jet stopped and stood looking at Faye, concern and something that looked like pity visible in his eyes. Jet let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes tiredly. 

"So you won't help us?"

Faye shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes and walked slowly to the door which she opened. 

"I've got a job to do. You've heard my answer, now leave."

Jet stared at her for a moment before walking out the room. Spike rose to his feet and walked awkwardly towards Faye. As he stood in front of her, trying to figure out what to say, she raised her head to meet his eyes. "Why can't the men in my life stay dead?" she whispered as her eyes glistened. 

Spike opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by her headshake.

"No. Just go."

A heavy feeling settling uncomfortably in his chest, Spike turned and followed his companion out into the main part of the club again. Faye collapsed against the doorframe. The vision of a lanky man walking away from her blurred as the tears began to fall.

****

Just Keep on Walking… 


	5. Echoes of the past

**Disclaimer:          **I don't own cowboy bebop or any of the characters. Please don't sue me as I have no money. I also don't own with you which is a song by Linkin Park. 

**A/N:    **sorry this took so long, it was hard to get started. I'm in need of a beta reader as my current one is bogged down with uni exams and I don't want to mess up her degree. If you're interested and don't mind wading through the crap that makes up my rough drafts please email me. My address is diggieman@hotmail.com. Ok, enjoy the story and please review. Thanks!

I woke up in a dream today 

_To the cold of the static_

_And put my cold feet on the floor_

_Forgot all about yesterday_

_Remembering I'm pretending to be where I'm not anymore_

_A little taste of hypocrisy_

_And I'm left in the wake of the mistake_

_Slow to react_

_Even though you're so close to me_

_You're still so distant_

_And I can't bring you back_

_                                ~With you_

Whirrr…whirrr…whirrr… 

It was strange; the way life moved in circles, always coming back to the same point, the same place, the same confusion. Spike had been staring at the ceiling between periods of fitful dreamless sleep since getting back to the bebop last night. Despite the many unanswered questions that were clamouring for some sort of response from Jet, nothing had been said. The silence that had hung between them on the trip back to the bebop had been heavy with memories of the past and words best left unspoken. Spike knew he had been too preoccupied with the revelation that it had been Faye at the massage parlour to give thought to everything else that had transpired. But now, staring at the fan as it slowly rotated round and round with its familiar electrical whirring, he was confused about the hostility that had existed between Jet and Faye. Whatever caused it must have taken place during the long months he spent recuperating in hospital. Certainly Faye was long gone by the time Jet had arrived at his bedside that day. He'd never really thought about it, just assumed Faye had disappeared again and had yet to reappear in need of food and lodgings. But there was something more to it than that, that much was apparent.

Whirrr…whirrr…whirrr… 

The problem was, Jet wasn't talking. He wasn't doing much of anything. He'd locked himself in his room, no doubt taking out his frustrations on those bonsai trees. He'd barely even glanced at Spike, just made some gruff noise in the back of his throat when Spike asked what happened next. Ed had kept herself firmly immersed in whatever it was she was doing on Tomato, dealing with the tension by ignoring it. She was hiding in the electronic wasteland, preferring random strings of data to the silence the surrounded her. Spike hadn't heard any of her usual chirpings. Even Ein seemed out of sorts as he slouched about the bebop, forsaking his favourite spot by the phone in favour of one next to Ed. The past loomed over the ship like a thick fog.

Whirrr…whirrr…whirrr… 

Spike lit a cigarette and watched as the smoke drifted idly towards the ceiling, tendrils curling and twisting in the air. A memory stirred, one from four months ago. A different room. A different ceiling. Spike had been staring at the ceiling, wondering what he was going to do with his life, when a plume of smoke had drifted past him. Painfully, he'd turned to see Jet there, a small smile playing about his face as he informed Spike he had a vacancy for a partner and was he interested? Seemed like the last one had got himself killed over a woman. 

Four months, everything seemed to be coming back to then. What was so special about four months ago? Spike frowned and stubbed out the remains of his cigarette. He'd had enough of this introspection. It was time to get some answers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike leaned against the doorframe watching the older man. Spike knew Jet was aware of his presence. He could tell from the tension apparent in the shoulder muscles as the figure before him hunched over the miniature tree. Eventually the older man put the scissors down in a slow and controlled manner and sat back.

"How much longer do you plan on standing there?" Jet didn't turn round. Just continued to stare at the wall in front of him. Spike smiled and shrugged nonchalantly.

"How much longer do you plan on sitting there in silence?"

Jet snorted and turned round to face the lanky bounty hunter. "I'm not sat in silence anymore."

Spike shifted and moved into the room. Greenery filled most of the available spaces, and Spike paused briefly as he chose the place least likely to destroy something. Spike sat down on the edge of Jet's bed so he faced him. Reaching into his trouser pocket for his cigarette packet, he offered one to Jet who accepted. The two men sat in silence for a moment; the only sound the soft hiss of the paper slowly burning. Spike spoke first, his eyes carefully trained on the glowing tip of his cigarette and not on his partner.

"When were you going to tell me about Faye?"

Jet glanced up, his face unreadable. "You mean Mars? I didn't know for certain until last night."

"But you suspected?" Spike trod the butt into the floor with studied concentration. Jet paused for a moment causing Spike to look up. Their eyes met and Spike saw the hardness in Jets face vanish as the silence between them broke.

Jet leaned back with a sigh and stared at the ceiling. "I suspected. I didn't really see how it could be anyone else."

Spike nodded his head as he took in the information. He'd guessed that Jet had known more than he was letting on. Very little got past Jet, which was why Jet ended up doing the research while Spike did the running about. Another question rose in his mind and Spike paused as he studied Jet's reaction. "Would you have told me?"

"You figured it out yourself." Jet refused to meet Spike's gaze as he ground down his own cigarette butt into a nearby ashtray.

Spike frowned. It wasn't like Jet to be so evasive, at least not to him. "If I hadn't. Would you have told me?"

Jet looked Spike squarely in the face, his face unflinching. "No"

Spike stared at Jet, his mind racing as he tried to keep up with what was being said. What was it that he didn't know? What was the cause of all the tension and secrecy?

Spike reached for another cigarette. Taking a deep drag into his lungs he held the smoke in for a moment, as he decided how to phrase his next question. "So are you going to tell me what happened between the two of you?"

"It's not my story to tell." Jet's response was abrupt, his tone warning Spike that he was not prepared to talk about that.

Spike thought for a moment. "Well, what can you tell?"

Jet sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hand tiredly. "Faye got into trouble. I owed her so I helped her out. After that we agreed it was best if we went our separate ways."

Spike looked at Jet in surprise. Faye was always either in trouble or running away from it, nothing new there, so what was it that was different this time? Curious but not really expecting an answer, Spike pried a little further. "What sort of trouble?"

"The sort of trouble a woman like Faye can get into."

The look on Jet's face warned Spike that he was once again straying into dangerous territory. He paused to collect his thoughts while he thought about what Jet had said. What did he mean by 'a woman like Faye'? As Spike was puzzling over the peculiar words Jet had chosen he suddenly remembered something else. "Why did you owe her?"

"It was partially my fault she got into trouble."

Spike looked sharply at Jet. His friend's face was as carefully neutral as before, neither confirming nor denying any of the scenarios that were clamouring in Spike's mind.  The moment stretched out between them, only to be interrupted by the desperate scrap of claws as Ed burst into the room with Ein scrambling to keep up.

"Jet! Jet! Ed found Shearman! Come and see! Come and see!"

Jet and spike stared in amazement at the ball of failing limbs and excess energy that had exploded in front of them. Failing to get the reaction she wanted, Ed resorted to pulling at Spike in an effort to move the two men.

"Come on Spike-person, come and see!"

Jet rose to his feet and walked briskly out of the room, causing Ed to let go of Spike and run after the older man. Mystified Spike stood and followed the strange procession to the main quarters of the ship. Ed stood in front of the screen on Tomato and pointed proudly at the information displayed on it.

"Tada! No-one hides from Edward for long."

Spike sat down next to Jet who was already studying the screen intently. Curious, Spike leaned forward and stared at the face before him. The man was tall, and sharply featured. Green eyes glowered from behind a curtain of silver hair. The sharp cheekbones and long, thin nose gave the man a strangely feral appearance. The data underneath the picture declared the man to be 'Shearman- real name unknown. Age 26. Profession- facilitator.'

Spike frowned as he read the unfamiliar phrase. "What the hell's a facilitator?"

Jet glanced at him, one eyebrow arched. "Never came across facilitators when you were with the Red Dragons? They're part of the Krakov syndicate, basically do whatever's necessary to 'facilitate' a project." Jet looked back at the screen and shook his head as he studied the picture. "No wonder Faye freaked out when I asked about him."

Spike stared at Jet in complete confusion. "When did you ask about this Shearman guy?"

Jet groaned. "When we saw Faye. Why can't you pay attention for once? I asked her if she knew where we could find Shearman and she threw one of her tantrums. Bounty was placed on him cos apparently he's got access to the ISSP database. Anything he wants from there he can get, details of officers, his own records, money you name it." Jet turned to Ed and smiled. "Good work Ed, at least we've got a picture now."

Ed grinned widely and shook her head. "Uh uh. Ed found more, look." She leaned over tomato and rapidly pressed a series of keys which brought up a different screen. Jet looked blankly at it as he scanned the text for anything relevant then whistled softly. Spike leaned in closer.

"What?"

Jet pointed at the screen. "There. Some guy was tailing Shearman before he got wise and killed the poor bastard. Seemed that the guy made a habit of storing all the data he'd gathered on his laptop, which Ed has hacked into and found. We know his frequent haunts, favourite foods, the women he goes for… oh."

Spike looked at Jet. "Why oh? Sounds like it'll be an easy pickup."

Jet leaned back and covered his face with his hands. "It says Shearman is always hyper-alert to strangers and potential bounty hunters. He's only got one weakness that you could exploit to gain a capture. Women. But he's very picky. Very picky indeed."

Spike guessed where this was going and sat back with a groan. "You're not about to describe the sort of woman I think you are, are you?"

Jet lowered his hands and glanced across at Spike. "Slim, pale skinned, dark hair and as much flesh on show as possible while maintaining a serious attitude."

Spike stared blankly at the wall in front of him as Jet continued. "If we want to capture Shearman, we're gonna need Faye."

Spike sighed and rose to his feet. "Look's like I'm on pick-up duty."

**_Reel it in…_**


	6. The fairer sex: a users guide

Disclaimer: Still don't own bebop and also don't own 'Can't Remember' from Song of Singapore. About the only thing I own (aside from my fetching baggy trousers is the bartender, who I'm getting quite fond of.

A/N: sorry this took so long, between me sorting out forms for uni and the site being down it's been over a month since my last update. Hope it was worth the weight. From here on in the plot picks up.

Spike ran a hand absentmindedly through his hair as he studied his reflection, trying to make himself look halfway presentable. 

Then he realised what he was doing. 

With a frown, Spike turned away from the mirror in the cloakroom and slunk down the stairs into Romeo's. That was the third time in an hour he'd caught himself checking his appearance. _And for no real reason,_ he admonished himself as he settled down on a stool at the bar. Actually that was a lie, and Spike knew it, for a big part of that reason was currently sipping a drink on the corner of the stage. Spike shifted on his stool, curiously aware of the unfamiliar feel of his new black suit against his skin. Remembering Jet's pointed gaze at his clothes when he announced his exit, he unconsciously smoothed the soft fabric before he caught himself and placed his hands on the bar with a scowl. 

"This is a bounty pick-up, _not_ a date." Spike muttered to himself as he found his hands toying with a small matchbook that sat on the bar in front of him. A familiar looking cocktail suddenly appeared in front of him along with an ashtray. Spike glanced up to see the same bartender from before giving him a sad smile.

"Couldn't stay away huh?"

Spike sighed and lit a cigarette. "Yeah, something like that. I seem to spend my life being drawn back to places."

The bartender nodded before directing a longing stare at the stage, or to be exact the purple haired occupant that kept attracting Spike's gaze. Spike forced his eyes away from the sultry singer and let them scan across the crowd. Surprise registered on his features as he saw how packed the place was. Strangely though, for a crowd this size, there seemed to be a somewhat subdued atmosphere hanging over the club. Spike turned back to the bartender.

"Seems you've got quite a crowd in… if somewhat maudlin."

The Bartender forced his eyes back to Spike as he answered. "It's been like this for the past couple of nights. Faye's come over somewhat melancholic and every fella here would love to be the one to mend her broken heart."

The bartender placed a bottle of Gypsy's Kiss on the bar in front of Spike. "On the house. You look like you need it."

Spike frowned as the bartender walked away, something about their conversation was causing a glimmer of unease to nestle uncomfortably in his mind. Spike shook his head, trying to rid himself of emotions resembling guilt before he drained his glass and poured himself a generous refill. He had no real reason to care about Faye's mental state, and a distracted target is an easy target. So why, Spike wondered as he downed another glassful of alcohol, did he feel so torn up by what he was going to do?

Spike closed his eyes and savoured the soothing warmth that slipped down his throat, spreading a much needed calmness through his body. As his earlier nerves were washed away by the strong alcohol, Spike heard or rather felt a change come over the audience. He glanced up to see the lights round the stage had dimmed until Faye stood alone in a spotlight. Her hair shone a rich amthyest under the harsh light, creating a striking contrast with her pale skin. Her tiny frame was draped in a soft strapless midnight blue gown that seemed to flow over every curve before pooling round her feet. Brilliant flashes of blue sparked and dimmed as the light played along the fabric, giving Faye a somewhat ethereal appearance. From somewhere behind her, a piano played out a gently haunting melody. Her eyes closed, Faye lifted the microphone to her lips and began to sing.

_I can't remember_

_I can't recall if his blue eyes_

_Were blue as twilight, tropic skies_

_Or like the blue when lovin' dies_

_I can't remember_

_Did I fly?_

_Did I run?_

_Along the sand beneath the sun?_

_To hold him fast when day was done?_

_I can't remember_

_I know once I was happy_

_The prize of his affections_

_And he wrapped my world in threads of loveliness_

_But since he went away_

_And tore my recollections_

_I'm still that well dressed lady_

_But a lady in distress_

_Who can't remember…_

_What were his words?_

_What did he say?_

_The morning when he walked away?_

_Or was it afternoon?_

_I really can't remember_

_Don't ask why I live alone_

_I'm fed up and I'm through_

_With all these answers and these questions_

_And the tears they bore me to_

_Don't ask about his voice_

_Or if his haunting smile still flirts_

_And don't ask me_

_If it still hurts_

_I can't remember_

Faye broke off from her song as the band behind her launched into an instrumental passage. She closed her eyes and let the music gently wash over her as though the audience no longer existed. It was getting harder each night to get up on stage and sing as memories she didn't want threatened to overwhelm her, while those she desired remained out of reach. There was so much she longed to forget, her days on the Bebop and the events after top of her list. But until the day when she achieved oblivion she could only seek solace in music and alcohol. 

Behind her the band shifted tempo leading into the bridge. Faye opened her eyes and threw her soul into the music.

Alone at the bar, Spike could only stare unnoticed.

_In a low rent saloon_

_I heard two fellas_

_They were singing a 'toon_

_Comparing notes about the 'Rose of Rangoon'_

_Cos nobody knows where she's from_

_Don't ask why I live alone_

_I'm fed up and I'm through_

_With all these answers and these questions_

_And the tears they bore me to_

_Don't ask about his voice_

_Or if his haunting smile still flirts_

_And don't ask me_

_If it still hurts_

_I can't remember_

Faye's head bowed as the music softly died out behind her, leaving her to sing the last line accompanied, her clear voice ringing out over the enthralled crowd. Spike stared at the figure before him on the stage the guilty unease from before churning in his gut. He'd never noticed how fragile she looked; the attitude she usually hid behind was more than an adequate disguise. But the raw vulnerability she was displaying now was unsettling.

Spike's eyes never left Faye as she turned and walked slowly away from the stage. The band launched into a soft bluesy piece as Faye disappeared through the doorway that led to the backstage area. Leaving a tip on the bar Spike rose to his feet, trying to convince himself that he wasn't apprehensive about the confrontation that was about to ensue. Grinding out the remains of his cigarette, he set off to capture his elusive bounty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Faye coughed as the strong alcohol burned its way down her throat, the heat dulling out unwanted thoughts and feelings. She breathed in deeply, savouring the cloudy sensation that was filling her mind more with each and every glass drained. Reaching for the bottle, Faye frowned when she saw it was empty. She muttered a curse under her breath as she flung it at the wall and bent down to get another one from her stash at the back of the room. As her hand closed round the bottle of scotch a gentle knock sounded at the door. 

"Go away." She yelled as she wrenched the top off the bottle and took a hasty swallow. 

Grasping the bottle tightly Faye collapsed onto her chaise lounge and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the world around her. The knock sounded again, reverberating strangely round her head.

"I said go away."

Faye took another gulp at the bottle and hissed at its warm progress down her throat. Draping an arm across her eyes to try and block out the distracting light she heard a soft click as her door swung open. Swinging herself into a sitting position she turned to face her visitor.

"I thought I told you to…"

Faye's voice failed her as she saw Spike in the doorway, the look on his face a painful reminder of everything she was seeking to forget. She took another swallow of scotch as she looked away. She wasn't nearly drunk enough to be dealing with this now.

"Hello Spike." 

The dullness in her voice caused Spike to frown as he crossed the room to face her. He took in the bottle in her hand and the smashed remains of at least another two by the wall that housed the fire escape, before answering with a soft greeting of his own. The pair stared at each other in silence until Faye broke eye contact and took another drink. Her mind was full of questions that she wasn't sure she wanted answered.

"What is it you want Spike?"

Spike smiled softly, as he tried to put Faye at ease. A large part of him was hoping that he would be able to talk Faye into coming with him without resorting to any kind of physical force. However, somewhere at the back of his mind he knew that it was unlikely.

"I'm here to ask a favour."

Faye let out a harsh laugh and flopped back onto the chaise lounge. 

 "I thought I made myself clear last time.  No."

Spike sighed and shifted slightly. It seemed that the little voice in his mind was right.

"Faye please. It's not just the money, lives are on the line here."

Faye's eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, passion and some other unknown emotion making her eyes flash.

 "Lives? Since when have you ever given a damn about anyone's life but your own?"

Spike flinched at the harsh tone in Faye's voice. "I've cared about a lot of people lives."

Faye turned her head away so Spike wouldn't see the tears that were starting to burn behind her eyes. She wasn't going to let any of her former comrades affect her anymore. She was tired of being alone, but she preferred the loneliness to the feelings of abandonment and unrequited… She had always known Spike thought nothing of her, but the memory of that day, the day when she realised he would rather be dead with his precious Julia than alive with her still hurt. Hurt her more than the events that followed. More than anyone or anything else had. Her whispered comment was more to herself than Spike.

"But you didn't care enough about us to stay." 

Spike stood in silence staring at the figure that now seemed to so altered. Faye took another deep swig from her bottle, trying to wash away the memories and the man that were crowding her too sober mind. The silence between them stretched out, broken only by the soft chink of the bottle rising and falling as Faye steadily continued her quest for oblivion. 

Spike reviewed his thoughts. How was he going to get Faye to come with him? Normally he would just pull out his gun and be done with it, but Faye being the difficult woman she was, had chosen the only place where he _couldn't_ do that as her hidey-hole. No hits, no hunting. The two golden rules of Romeo's. And there was no way he could get round that.

Faye stood and swayed heavily. The effects of the two and a half bottles of scotch she'd consumed over the last few hours finally hitting her with avengeance now that she decided to throw Spike out of her room. The bottle she held in her hand slipped from her fingers as the strength seeped out of them. She stared dully at the wall that was slowly spinning away from her.

"Shit."

Spike caught her a moment before she fell, his strong embrace holding her tightly. Her head rolled back until she was resting it against his chest. Slowly she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent she remembered so well, the smoky overtones almost hiding the light lemony scent of his soap and the slightly muskier woody scent of his skin. Then she realised what she was doing.

Spike had closed his eyes as he held the soft warm body in his arms, his chin resting lightly on top of her head, savouring the feeling of being close to another person. Her hair tickled him slightly as a couple of silken strands slipped through the open top of his shirt and rested against his chest. Then the contact was broken as Faye suddenly pushed away from him.

She fell heavily against the dresser breathing deeply as she tried to clear her head enough to function. A wave of nausea rushed over her and suddenly the air in the small dressing room seemed stale and thick. Faye rose to her feet, bracing herself against the dresser and held out a hand to stop Spike as he moved towards her.

"Don't. Need air."

She lunged past him, desperate to get out the fire exit and into the cold night air. Spike reached out an arm as she staggered past him, grabbing her weight and using her momentum to carry the pair, locked together out of the fire door. Faye's back slammed up against the brick wall outside. Her eyes closed at the impact drawing the cold night air into her lungs. Then she felt the warmth of Spikes breath against her face. She opened her eyes, all to aware of the warmth and weight of a body pressed to her. Green eyes met mismatched brown as the bounty hunters locked eyes.

Spike stared at the face that had been haunting him for the past few weeks. His hands were braced against the wall either side of Faye's head, supporting some of his weight so he used just enough to keep her from running away. Their faces were barely a couple of inches apart and Spike could smell the rich peaty smell of scotch on the warm breath that tickled his skin. Slowly he leaned in closer so his lips brushed against Faye's ear.

As Spike's breath tickled against her neck Faye felt her eyes close. An electrifying shiver was running down her spine causing a small sigh to escape her lips. Soft moss green hair brushed gently against her cheek as Spike moved so his mouth was by her ear. Gently he whispered to her.

"Is there no way I can talk you into coming with me?"

Faye shook her head, the action causing more of her face to brush against Spike's hair, filling her senses with the smell and feel of him. She felt his hands rest gently on her shoulders and gently pull her closer to him so every contour of their bodies locked together. Slowly his hands swept down her arms as Spike moved his face back so he was staring at Faye again. Faye was aware of her heart pounding painfully against her chest as her body responded to the gentle contact. Spike's hands reached Faye's wrists and then…

"Sorry."

The cold hard snap of the metal handcuffs brought Faye out of her reverie. Her eyes widened in shock as Spike looked at her, a mixture of shame, guilt, sorrow and something else flashing behind his eyes.

"You can't do this!" She hissed. "No hunting in Romeo's, it's a rule."

Spike half smiled and stepped back slightly, his hands never leaving Faye's wrists.

"But we're not in Romeo's anymore…"

Faye paused as she suddenly realised there was only one way out of her predicament. With all her remaining energy she flung her full weight at Spike, sending the pair of them hurtling towards the ground. The blow was softened slightly as she landed on Spike and she could tell by the muffled groan he was at least slightly winded. Wiggling off him as best as she could with her arms behind her back and the long skirt of her dress hindering her legs she attempted to crawl back towards the safety of the bar.

The blow had come out of nowhere, causing Spike to lose his balance and his grip on Faye as he fell backwards. He hastily tried to gather his thoughts as he felt the warmth of her body move away from him. Rolling over he saw her starting to crawl away from him. He reached out with a hand and grabbed her ankle, pulling at it until he managed to lie on top of her struggling body, trying to overpower her. Spike was painfully aware of the fact that this was not quite how he had seen this particular fantasy, especially when moments later Faye passed out spent. With a sigh Spike rose to his feet and swung the unconscious body over his shoulder. He was going to get hell when she came round…

****

****

**_Round 'em up, reel 'em in Cowboy_**


End file.
